Plot Bunny Adoption Centre
by Domesticated Sword
Summary: As the title says, this is where any stray plot bunnies of mine will be placed. If you decide to adopt any of these, just let me know. Enjoy.


**We all do it. We work on a major project, but constantly get sidetracked by stupid side ideas. For the sake of my sanity, I will be putting any such ideas in this thing. If any readers are inspired to write bigger stories based on these ideas, all I ask is that you vaguely credit me at some point, and PM a link to wherever it is posted. That said, here is the first ridiculous idea. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Rise of the Son**

When Delsin exposed Augustine and the DUP, he was expecting things to change for the better. And, for a brief time, they did. His work in cleaning up Seattle and exposing the DUP gained the Conduit movement a whole boatload of goodwill. Both literally and figuratively, given that Goodwill sent a small barge filled with clothing to the former inmates of Curden Cay Prison. With a bit of political lobbying, Delsin managed to secure land for the Conduits, similar to the Native American Reservations. Here, the conduits lived in peace, and all was well.

Of course, it could never last. A large group of former DUP soldiers got together, and formed the terrorist gang that would later be known as the True Humans. Managing to steal huge amounts of military hardware, like tanks, APCs, and their old guns, they then launched a strike on the Conduit city of New Empire city, named in honour of the birthplace of the Conduits. They were repelled fairly easily, though the demonstration of force by the Conduits began to make people uneasy. There were rumblings in the works of restrictions being placed.

Meanwhile, Conduits from around the world were flowing in, seeking a place where they could fit in. After being ambushed a couple of times in the street by grateful Conduits, and getting Glass and Wire powers added to the mix, Delsin took to wearing gloves, so as to minimise the chance of skin contact with another Conduit.

Within a month of the terrorist attack on New Empire City, new laws were passed. Conduits were not allowed to live outside of New Empire City. There were patrols to make sure no-one got in or out, unless they had a passport. The True Humans would attempt an attack every few months, and be repelled with relative ease. Seeing that the Conduits could defend themselves, they switched to attacking the government that aided them and allowed them to live fairly unrestricted lives.

The United States government was quick to acquiesce to the demands of violent terrorists, especially as the request was simple. Destroy the Conduits, and let Humanity be pure again. Three weeks after the declaration by the True Humans of their wishes, Congress released a statement. Under US law, the Conduits were no longer human. Thus, it was a choice between uncounted human lives, or the lives of people who were not human. Because if this, the Conduit race was now illegal again, though this time with lethal force authorised.

New Empire City was now under siege.

* * *

 **Delsin POV**

It was chaos. The Government had restored the DUP, and they had brought all the firepower they could get their greedy hands on. The Conduits, on the other hand, had the advantage of being walking artillery units, as well as being incredibly hard to kill. Within an hour, the city had become a warzone you would expect to see after years of war, with entire districts being leveled at a time. Looking at the advancing troops, facing off against small teams of co-ordinated Conduits hurling the wrath of nature at them, he felt sorrow. Obviously, he would never let words like "sorrow" ever escape his inner monologue, but it was saddening. He had fought for Conduit rights, trying to let them incorporate in society, and now this.

Admittedly, he had only started caring a few months back, after he got his first element, but the concept stood. Here, the US government was officially saying "We cannot, will not, co-exist with you."

So he unleashed. Remaining non-lethal, as it would be worthless to switch after so long doing good and building a positive reputation with the people to go wrong. Takedowns built up his Karma, and he used it to wreak chaos on the military. He found that he enjoyed using Glass and Wire, as well as Neon, Smoke, and Video, but Concrete always made him feel...unclean. He used the Karmic Bomb, as people were calling it, exactly once.

Even still, it wasn't enough. He would rush to one side of the city to stop an attack, only for two to happen elsewhere. Time after time they were pushed towards the city centre, and it became clear that that was the invaders intent. Delsin still refused to surrender to his whimsy and start copying powers left right and centre, a move which he justified by explaining that he could only use one power at a time. Even so, people began resenting him for his inactivity, claiming that by refusing to take their powers, he was condemning their memories to oblivion.

Four weeks after the war began, Delsin and the last survivors were trapped in the last building left standing in New Empire City, the City Hall. Two hundred Conduits, all blasting outside with all their might. Indeed, the only reason the building was still standing was the efforts of the Conduits, propping it up and turning it into a fortress. After a few days, however, it became clear that there would be no escape. This was the last stand of the Conduit Race, there would be no more.

While lost in thought over this dilemma, Delsin had not stopped firing. He was using Smoke, as it was common enough that recharging was not too major an issue. Next to him was Patricia, a British Conduit with ferrokinesis. Together, they were hurling blazing javelins and molten metal at the artillery advancing on the building, and it was working. The soldiers were retreating! Why were they doing that? Unless…

Grabbing Patricia by the arm, he raced downstairs, getting all the Conduits he saw on the way down as well. "Delsin? What are you doing? We've won!"

He turned, looking at the person who said that. It was Arthur, a Conduit with control over portals, which he mainly used to get people places. "Think about it, Arthur. We are at a disadvantage, with limited energy, limited supplies, limited people. They have all the people in the military to throw at us, no shortage of ammunition, and all the time in the world. Why are they leaving?"

Realization dawned in the eyes of those around him. They were not leaving because they were defeated, they were leaving because they had a plan, and one which presumably involved a fair amount of collateral damage."Now, if we are all finished arguing, lets get moving!"

He carried on rushing downwards, and within a few minutes all of them were assembled at the bottom. "Now, Arthur, get us out of here."

Arthur blinked, looking unsure of what to do. "Where are we going, precisely? Only I need to have a destination in mind, or it could explode."

"It doesn't matter, just pick somewhere outside of the can get a better destination later, if it comes to it."

"Oh alright. Amazon Rainforest it is…"

There was a brief pause, and then a swirling hole formed in the air. It could only be seen from the front, and there was a brief tunnel of darkness, maybe three metres, before the other side, which was a clearing in the jungle. People started moving through, with Delsin urging them on. When there were only a few left, there was a loud droning cutting through the air. It was similar enough to the stereotype that all of them knew what it would be. "Air strike inbound, move it!"

The last four made a rush, and Delsin moved to enter the tunnel, until he was shoved aside by Arthur. "What the hell, dude?" He shouted, landing oddly on his arm.

Arthur turned, and looked at him. "Sorry, old friend, but only one of us is getting through. There is not enough time for both of us to cross, and I am sure as hell not dying. Goodbye."

He stepped into the tunnel, and began walking sedately. While the prortals were useful, it was discovered that having multiple people using them at a time made them unstable, and the chances of ending up in the right place diminished drastically. Even so, by the time Delsin was standing again, Arthur was on the other side, and the hole was closing. He Smoke dashed, got into the tunnel, and both sides snapped shut.

* * *

"Well, this is certainly a novel experience."

Indeed it was. They had never tested what happened to a person stuck in a tunnel when the openings shut, but it was certainly boring. A vast void, empty of all light and matter as far as the eye could not see. As far as he could tell, he could either drift around and go insane from sensory deprivation, or see if killing himself got him out of there.

Suddenly, a light. Dim, as if from far off, but steady. Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see many of them, all tremendously far away, and all as dim as the first. Except for one. One was close enough to be the same brightness as a star in the night sky, and he could have sworn he heard whispering emanating from it. He used his smoke thrusters to move closer, and found that it was still really far away. At a constant use of his power, it would take him at least an hour to get there.

"Ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…"

Unknown to him, in the place he was, the light, heat and noise he was producing was awakening old things, things which had not seen anything alive for thousands of millions of years, things which could not see the lights. Had he known this, he would have simply stopped singing and using his thrusters, and simply taken a longer time to reach the light. Alas, he did not know.

Eventually, after an excruciating hour, he reached the light. It had grown bigger as he approached, and was now about the size of a gas giant, from what he could estimate of it. There was definitely a whispering now, and it was coming from behind as well. There were dim spots flashing along the side, and every now and then a flare of brilliant white would show up on the gray surface. He shrugged off a feeling of uneasiness, and pushed up against it. It was smooth, almost like glass, and cool. When a dim spot went under his hand it dipped in slightly, almost like he could push through if he tried hard enough.

A small rumble came from behind, and he paused. Unless some-one else got caught in a tunnel, this space was not a empty as one would think. He began pushing harder against the surface of the light, but to no avail. There was simply no way to get through.

While panicking, one of the white flashes flared beneath him, and he fell right through, but not before getting a glimpse of _something_ in the dark.

* * *

 _Various monitoring device appropriated from Professor Haywire's lab began to react to something. In the Toybox, Dodge looked over what they were reading. "Hmmm, not the scheduled time for an Earth Aleph broadcast, plus the signals all wrong… It would appear that someone new has entered the scene."_

 _He picked up a phone, and rang the number he had been given when he had received all the equipment. He had been told to use it if there was any hint of unauthorised interdimensional transport. "_ Hello, you have reached the PRT head office, what is your call about _?"_

" _Yes, I would like to report a Code Purple, somewhere in the region of Brockton Bay. That is all."_

 _He hung up, and put the phone down again. That was the first time that he had ever had to call in a Code Purple. This demanded celebration!_

* * *

Delsin was falling.

That was the first thing he focused on, as it was quite a pressing issue. Not that big of an issue, since he had yet to experience any issues with falling from great heights before, but after over an hour of being weightless, having the sensation of gravity again was disorienting. He was over a city, though he did not recognize any landmarks. He was, however, high enough to recognize that it was the US.

He plummeted downwards, and began firing his thrusters, trying to take the edge off his landing. It was working, though not as fast as he would like. As he fell, he began to see some interesting things. It was a harbour city, but the harbour seemed to remarkably empty. There was some evidence of decay, almost like the city was dying. It was saddening, but it was happening more and more as time went by.

The wind howled past his ears, and he carried on falling, though no longer at terminal velocity. He could see where he was headed, and it was a direct course to one of the skyscrapers. He flattened himself out vertically, and continued firing his boosters downwards, coming close to a complete halt. Then he got hit in the side of the head by a pair of seagulls, and blacked out.

* * *

He woke up only a hundred metres above the roof of the skyscraper. At the speed he was traveling at, he would not be able to stop in time. Still, he slammed his boosters onto maximum, and managed to only break through the first layer of roof, and end up on top of a conference table.

The people seated around the table, all in various costumes, came to a complete halt in shock at his appearance. One of them coughed. "Ummm, hi? Who are you?"

Delsin looked around. From the way they were seated, they were clearly quite important people. Yet, he did not recognize any of them, not helped at all by the fact that they all had some sort of mask or helmet on.

"I could be asking you the same thing. Seriously, what is with the costumes? Are you guys actors or something?"

That was clearly the wrong thing to say. From the looks of surprise on their faces, he was clearly supposed to have an idea of who they were. One of them, however, reacted differently. He tilted his head to the side slightly, then said: "I think we have found our Code Purple." If their pausing act earlier was impressive, the brief second in which this apparently important fact sunk in was as if they had been carved out of marble. Then they whirred into motion once more, and all hell broke loose.

* * *

 _Assault stared at the person in front of him. About six feet tall, dressed in dark blue jeans, red beanie, white hoodie, and a denim vest. The back of the vest had an image of a blue bird soaring upwards. As the alert blared, and the foam sprayers peaked their nozzles out of the walls, he dived under the table. Past experiences with the Master/Stranger protocols had taught him that doing so would allow him a measure of airspace around his head._

 _The noxious yellow liquid sprayed out the nozzles, immediately swelling to fill the room with containment foam. He had pressed his face against the table, and so could still move his head with a few degrees of leeway on either side. From the person on the table, he heard. "Seriously? What the fuck is this stuff?"_

 _Despite the fact that it was a deeply serious event, he couldn't hold back a laugh._

* * *

Encased in the yellow foam, Delsin wondered which higher deity he pissed off. Betrayed by a man he thought his friend, and now surrounded by what was clearly somebody's idea of a good containment system for Conduits. Whatever this "code purple" was, these people clearly had some issues with their identity. "Seriously? What the fuck is this stuff?"

There was a muffled laugh from directly below him. "Well, it would seem that you have just been introduced to the PRT containment foam. It's practically a rite of passage here."

"Where the hell is here?"

A silence filled the room. "Okay. Where you come from, do you know about parallel universes?"

"No, not really. Are you saying that this is a parallel Earth?"

A third voice entered the muffled conversation. "Assault, stop talking to the prisoner, at least until the official interrogation starts."

"Oh, stuff it Armsie. I'm doing this on the fly, and a damn sight better than anyone else here could. Besides, we're all in containment foam, you must have a recorder in that helmet of yours, I'm simply streamlining the whole process. Now, back to you."

Despite not being able to move or see, Delsin could tell he was being referred to. "Uh, not to harp on about the whole, you know, alternate universe thing, but what in Beast's name were you talking about? Where the hell am I, who the fuck are you, and what the actual hell is this shit?"

The third voice, slightly less muffled, answered him. "You are in Brockton Bay, a city in the United States of America. More precisely, you are in the headquarters for the Parahuman Response Team, East-North-East branch. I am Armsmaster, a Parahuman Tinker specializing in efficiency. My companions are also Parahumans, though I will their introductions for later. The stuff that you are encased in is PRT standard issue containment foam. We are currently dissolving the foam around our members, at which point you will be moved to a secure cell and released. Now, does any of that sound familiar?"

"Why does it matter?" He said irritably.

"It helps us understand the major differences between our Earth's. This, in turn, allows us to better explain just what is happening. Now, answer the question."

Delsin sighed. "Where I come from, there is no city of Brockton Bay. Based on the name, I would assume that the Parahuman Response Team takes care of people with superpowers?"

The one who was introduced as Assault piped up, still slightly muffled, though from a different direction. "Indeed. Did you have some equivalent where you came from?"

Delsin snarled. "We did."

There was a silence, then the cocoon of foam he was wrapped in began to move. In response, Delsin began pushing against the foam again. "What's happening?"

"Please remain calm. You are being moved to a secure cell."

* * *

Ten minutes had passed, and the sensation of motion had finally passed. There was a hissing, and the foam began to detach off in clumps. He fell to the floor, and looked around. He was in a grey cell, brightly lit by overhead fluorescent bulbs. There was a metal table in front of him, and four chairs. One was on his side, the other three sat opposite it.

The three chairs were occupied by the strangest assortment of people he had ever seen. In the centre, a slightly obese woman huffed and wheezed, giving him a stare that was a strange mix of distaste, disgust, and distrust. On her left was a man covered in blue armour, carrying what appeared to be a pike or halberd. He also had a small, well trimmed beard. On the woman's left was another woman, this one with healthier, with a scarf around her mouth.

He moved into the chair provided, keeping a wary eye on the weapons pointed his way. "Grey walls, dim lighting, metal table… This is definitely a cell."

There were no smiles. Whoever these people were, they were clearly taking things a lot more seriously than he was. He, however, was having none of it. "What happens now? We going to play good cop, bad cop, cop with big gun?"

Still no reaction. "Come on, surely there is some way to make you people laugh?"

The woman in the middle frowned, and pulled some paperwork from under the table. "We are here because your very presence violates several treaties with Earth Aleph, as well as the fact that you are in this reality at all. If you could explain who you are, how and why you are here, as well as any important details regarding your home, we could establish how we are to react."

Delsin nodded, sitting back in his chair. "Okay. My name is Delsin Rowe. A few years ago, in 2010, a courier by the name of Cole MacGrath was tasked with transporting a device across Empire City. He was convinced by a friend to open it, causing it to detonate…"

He spent the next couple of hours telling them his past, and the history of the Conduits. They were bizarrely insistent that he did not mention any real names of Conduits, and were strangely stoic about his description of the Beast. He showed off some of his typhokinesis, but held back on telling them about his other skillsets, at least until they were proven to be allies.

At the end of his story, the woman in the middle put down the pen she had been taking notes with. "Well then, Mr. Rowe. You place us in an interesting situation. Our world does not have Empire City or New Marais. The first parahuman, as they are known here, was found in 1982, and they have been an important part of our society ever since. As with all members of the human race, there are good ones and bad ones. The PRT is tasked with finding the good ones, hiring them, and trying to arrest the bad ones.

"We are in the city of Brockton Bay, what is known as 'cape city', due to the proportionally high number of parahumans. I will not lie, Mr. Rowe, we are not powerful enough to hold the city. Every day, more ground is lost to the gangs that infest this city like a disease. We need the help of every single parahuman we can get, and that includes you. Should you agree to work for the Protectorate, we would be willing to assist in any legal matters that might crop up as a result of your...journey."

Delsin nodded, then frowned. "Can I take that to mean that refusal to comply and work for this...Protectorate, then I will face legal issues? Or is it simply that you hold enough political clout to get me released from any consequences from breaking interdimensional treaties?"

"Nothing like that. You see, Mr. Rowe, the parahumans of our society are divided into three groups. Heroes, who use their powers for good and justice. Rogues, who use their powers for monetary gain, while remaining neutral. And Villains, who commit crimes aided by their powers. Given the nature of powers, something that will be explained to you should you join the Protectorate, there are always more villains than heroes. For that reason, many people, the PRT included, are willing to forgive a lot of transgressions, as long as the person transgressing is a hero. While not a good thing, the system does occasionally play into our favour."

Delsin nodded. "I believe I understand."

"Very well then. Mr. Rowe, will you be joining the Protectorate East North-East?"

He nodded, and said "I guess so."

* * *

Despite what he might have been led to believe, joining a government-sponsored superhero team involved massive amounts of paperwork. Part of it was his new identity, setting him up as an actual person in the new world. It had been a bit of a shock to find out that the Akomish did not exist in the new world, but it had been lost in the sheer number of differences, both major and minor. Dollar coins instead of bills, the year being 2011 instead of 2018 (and hadn't _that_ been a surprise for everyone), and the differences in powers, were just some of the things brought up.

Fortunately, all that was done. He had been escorted to the room he was currently in, a cavernous space that was designed for testing powers, or so he was told. Standing at a bank of computers and monitoring equipment was a man in a white lab coat. Delsin coughed. "Um, hi? Are you in charge of power testing?"

The man turned around, and Delsin recoiled in shock. His face was covered in small scars, to the point that it seemed like you would be able to trace a maze on his face with relative ease. Before Delsin could point this out, he said "Hello there! Name's Douglas, Douglas Johnson. Ignore the face, twenty years doing power testing carries its fair share of accidents. You must be Delsin, at least until PR gets their hands on you."

"Sorry?"

"Was it not explained? It is generally understood that Parahumans wear masks and use pseudonyms, to protect their identity. Anyway, I was told you possess typhokinesis?"

Delsin shuffled a bit, had a bit of a mental debate, and said "Not quite. My power, as you would call it, is the ability to copy the powers of other Conduits. I have no idea whether it will work on your parahumans, but I am already in possession of six different sets of powers. You know about typhokinesis. I also have neon manipulation, video manipulation, geokinesis limited to concrete, silicakinesis limited to glass, and ferrokinesis limited to wire. I do not control any such things outside my body, and I need to… absorb them, for lack of a better word."

Douglas smiled. "Ah, one of the unique ones. GIven that you have had your powers for a while, or so I understood, it is likely to be a fairly straightforward test. You just need to demonstrate your capabilities, and we can assign your ratings and be done. We shall begin with the typhokinesis, but before that, could you just give a basic rundown of how they work?"

Delsin shrugged. "It's not too complicated. Each of the different sets has a power source related to it, and I can recharge it by absorbing that element. Each of my sets follows a basic pattern, with minor variations here and there. There is a standard attack, something I can do a lot of without needing to recharge. There is a more devastating attack, which have their own set of rules. There is a mobility component to each of them, although they can differ wildly. Also an area-of-effect thing, with a couple of exceptions, and a melee attack."

Throughout the entire speech, Douglas' eyebrows had steadily crept higher. "Is that all? Or do you have more tricks to pull out of your beanie?"

"I also have passive regeneration, and can heal my wounds by absorbing energy. Oh, and I can only switch to each set by draining the required energy."

For some reason, a lot of tension seemed to leave the room. "So, you aren't just walking around with several people's worth of artillery at a time?"

"No. Is that something that happens often?"

"Not often. When it does, we tend to worry."

"Ah. Well, should I demonstrate?"

The next two hours passed in a stream of testing and testing, with Douglas getting every scrap of data that he could. They seemed to be interested in his wildly diverse powers, though they found his combination of abilities intriguing. At the end, he was tired, he had been shot fourteen times, he had used just about every power he had, save the Karma Bombs, and had, at one point, been decapitated. Physically, he was fine, his regeneration healing any injuries sustained. Mentally, it had been a long day. He had not slept for forty hours during the final assault, and the only rest he had grabbed since then was when he had been hit in the head by the seagulls. Indeed, had he not possessed regenerative powers, he would likely have caused himself serious physical harm.

"Well, Mr. Rowe, we seem to be done here. It would have to be passed through the system, but you can expect at least Blaster, Shaker, Mover, Brute, Striker, Trump, Stranger, and Master, at the very least. Maybe more, if anything new comes up in the review of the information. Just as a warning, you might get some strange looks from people in the know. Ignore it, they're simply worried about the number of ratings to assign. Many Tinkers go through the same thing."

Delsin stared at the man who seemed to think he understood what was just said. "Not meaning to be rude, but what the hell does any of that mean?"

Douglas looked at him strangely, then shook himself and said "Sorry. It's a bit difficult to remember you don't understand what things we take for granted are. The PRT uses a system of twelve categories to classify Parahumans, and over time it has seeped into common usage. I'll let you read up on it later, but usually capes have a max of three classifications, the exceptions being Trumps, who can manipulate powers in some fashion, and Tinkers, who build technological devices that bend, or sometimes break, our understanding of physics."

"So, they see me as a threat?"

"In a word? Yes. Not for who you are, but for what could happen if you go evil. Now, according to your schedule, you are slated to speak to Public Relations, specifically regarding your hero identity."

"Oh. How bad could it be?"

* * *

"No."

"Oh come on! That one is perfect!"

It had only been twenty minutes since he arrived at the PR department, but it was already going badly. The first ten minutes had been spent going over posture and dialect, with efforts made to correct any differences found. The next ten minutes, however, had been trying to find a name that suited both Delsin and the PR department. The names discarded so far had been Mimic, Havoc, Copycat, Revenant, and, most recently, Parody. Glenn, the person who was both in charge of PR and handling his case, wanted a name that was both friendly and referred to his powers. Delsin, however, wanted one that "sounded cool".

"What is wrong with it? It describes your power to a suitable degree, it is family-friendly but not too whimsical… You know what? Just pick something that doesn't sound like a villain, please."

He thought for awhile, considering his options. "How about 'The Second Son?'"

* * *

 **And that was the first one! I have a brief list of ideas for the glass and wire abilities, but feel free to not have them if you do take this up. List:**

 **Glass powers:**

 **Melee: Glass Hammer (Says it all).**

 **Base Attack: Shattered Surprise (Shotgun-style burst of glass. Good Karma makes them nonlethal shatterproof spheres).**

 **Heavy Attack: Cannonball! (Huge glass ball is launched at speed. Non lethal, good against non-organic matter, max capacity 6).**

 **Dash: Mirror Mirror (Line-of-sight teleport, leaving a glass statue of himself behind).**

 **Special Attack: Glass Forest (Creates spikes of glass on the ground, Good Karma makes them blunted clubs).**

 **Karmic Bomb: Crystal Clear (Delsin fires a spread of glass spears that turn non-organic matter into glass. Good Karma makes organic matter simply be coated in it).**

 **Other: Can hover on a glass platform, drains glass power from broken glass, cannot dash multiple times in rapid succession.**

 **Wire Powers:**

 **Melee: Corded Whip (Again, says it all).**

 **Base Attack: Cord Blast (A long twisted cord, which unravels on impact to immobilize limbs etc. Good Karma makes it weighted).**

 **Heavy Attack: The Crusher (A ball of wire, which wraps around an object, and then crushes it. There is no non-lethal option).**

 **Dash: Braided Pull (Grappling hook, maximum range 100 metres).**

 **Special Ability: Cord Mine (Gets placed by Delsin, and activated by the first person to step on it. Upon activation, it rapidly expands into flailing cables that wrap around whatever they can. Good Karma, so non-lethal).**

 **Karmic Streak: All Tied Up (Delsin explodes into an omnidirectional blast of wires, which wrap around things, then smash them back together in a pile. Good Karma ensures that no action kills living things).**

 **Other: Can hover with wire thrusters, drains wire from exposed wiring, can swing with grapple hook.**

 **Please take this up, or at least give me feedback in case I ever decide to do this myself.**


End file.
